


Silent Hills

by underacherrytree



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Horror, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underacherrytree/pseuds/underacherrytree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl finds Beth in Silent Hill. Post-Season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Now Entering Silent Hill

She walked out of the fog. Just as he had last seen her. The wounds the same, her blonde hair matted with blood. Her blue eyes were cold, dead.  
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. Still there. He took a deep breath. Shut his eyes and shook his head. Opened. Still there. Getting closer.  
It couldn't be. They had buried her.  
She walked past him. No acknowledgement, as if she was in a different plane of existence. He watched her. Heard the sound of her boots on the wet pavement echoing in the cold air as she walked past him.  
The snow fell gracefully around her face. A piece fell onto her eyelash, clung to it for a minute that fluttered off into the breeze. No, not snow. Ash. Ashes were falling from the sky as if from some far off fire.  
If there were ashes, then was their smoke? Was the fog really smoke? A better question: how could she be alive? He put her in the ground himself, wept over her corpse even.  
Still, she was there and she was walking away. Into town. The town known as Silent Hill.  
"Beth!"  
**Beth, get your shit!**  
The words hit him hard. His last words to her.  
Daryl called out before she got too far.  
She continued on, as if she never heard him.  
_What's going on here? Where the hell am I?_ He had lost his way. He was on a run for supplies with Aaron. It was supposed to be a quick mission no further than two towns over. They were overwhelmed with walkers. They scattered into the winds, not knowing where the other went, figuring they'd meet back at the car.  
As good as a tracker as he was, he still managed to lose his way and now, in the dense fog, he saw her. Mocking his grief. Taking the wound, still fresh, still raw, and ripping it back open. Letting it bleed again.  
And yet it was as if he was calling to him, wordless and emotionless. He felt the pull. He had to follow her in. Into the town.  
Into Silent Hill.


	2. Restless Dreams

_I should turn back now_ , he thought with disdain. _This is crazy. I'm following a dead chick._ The fog was getting thicker, he could hardly see Beth anymore. But he could hear her singing soft and sweet.  
  _"La la la.."_  
    Daryl didn't know if it was a real song from some long ago, far off memory or just something she had made up but she kept singing it anyway and he kept following her. He didn't know where she was going, didn't even know if what he was seeing was real or not, but he had to find the truth.  
    "Now Entering Silent Hill" the sign read. It was a quarter of a mile back now. Old and faded like the street lines. His legs felt heavy as he followed behind her. He'd been following for God knows how long. He tried running to catch up but she always seemed just out of his reach.  
    He followed down a thin and winding dirt road. Trying to stay vigilant, he listened for walkers but all he could her was Beth's voice singing sweetly, drawing him to her. The fog thickened more, now he could barely see his hand in front of his face.  
    "Beth!" he tried again for the umpteenth time since he saw her.  
    His voice echoed through the trees, returning to him with several other voices. Indistinguishable and unintelligible.  
    The fog thinned a little and he observed his surroundings. He was in a wide open field. Gone was the road and all of its guiding signs. He could see a structure in the distance. Beth's voice calling him to it with her sweet melody.  
    He crossed the wide expanse of land to the two-story structure. The melody became louder as he approached the building.  
   _"La la la...la la..."_  
    He wasn't sure what to expect. The building was brown and rotting, it's red paint peeling in long tears from the wood work. He followed it around to the front, where a house came into view.  
  _This looks all too familiar..._  
    He stepped into the space between the house and the - _barn?! What the hell?_ The hairs on his arms and neck stood up. The words "YOUR FAULT" were painted on the side of the barn in, what looked like, red paint. They were huge and daunting. His stomach clenched. Trying to forget what happened last time he saw a barn.  
    He took aim with his crossbow, at what he did not know. It was precaution. Intuition and experience told him to be on guard.  
    Something was wrong, more so than the obvious. He took him a second to put his finger on it. The singing stopped...  
     **Thump. Clank.**  
    Daryl jumped. He spun around immediately, facing the barn door. From where he stood he could see a metal chain with a lock on it. The lock looked old, flimsy, as if one good thwack would break it.  
_"These things ain't sick. They're not people. They're dead. Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'cause all they do, they kill! These things right here, they're the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us."_ Shane's voice drifted through his head.  
    He waited. He knew something was coming.  
     **Thwack! Slam!**  
    The lock shook, it wouldn't last much longer. He readied himself.  
_Sophia..._  
    His throat was dry. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat. The lock shook violently one last time before it shattered into dust along with the chains.  
    He was ready. He could do it. He aimed the crossbow at the barn doors as they opened up to show an infinite darkness. Fogged poured out of the open doors as a lone figure approached.  
    Draped in a hospital gown, the shambling woman stepped forward. Dead eyes fixed on Daryl.  
    "What the hell?"  
    The figure made a sluggish step forward. Daryl felt his hands shake and his mouth go dry. His vision became blurry with tears as the woman stepped forward with an IV pole dragging behind her.  
    Daryl's vision was fading in proximity to the space between him and the blonde woman. He blinked, trying to banish the darkness slowly creeping in on the periphery.  "Beth?" he said weakly before she advanced on him, bearing her teeth. Her face was a mangled mess of blood and flesh but it was her.  
    He couldn't stop the tears from invading his eyes, claiming what little vision he had left. He felt the bile rising up his throat as his legs gave way and he collapsed on the ground. The dark took over as the sound of a siren could be heard in the distance.  
    "It's not your fault," a voice said before he completely succumbed to the world of darkness.


	3. Shattered Memories

    When Daryl awoke, he found himself on hard pavement. The fog was thick and the ashes kept falling from the sky. He slowly pulled himself off the ground. Standing upright he surveyed his surroundings.  
    He was no longer on the farm. Now he was in the middle of the street, the business section of town, it looked like. He briefly wondered how he got there but pushed those thoughts aside. He could puzzle that out when he was safe. Being out in street left him open to vandals and walkers.  
_-Beth!_  
    He bent over and vomited what little was in his stomach. He fell to the ground, tears of pain in his eyes. He clutched his stomach, closed his eyes, and waited for it to pass. After a moment, he regained his composure. He looked around at the many different paths he could take.  
    The street stretched out before him. There were two alley way, one on either side of him. Behind him was a steep precipice which seemed to stretch on forever. _Did the fucking street collapse?!_  
    Daryl stilled when he heard movement. From the right, shadows danced in the street accompanied by the sound of shuffling feet. Dozens of them. Daryl readied himself, crossbow at the ready. They came out of the dark alley. Daryl, expecting walkers was stunned to see such demons shambling toward him.  
    The creatures had no arms, looking as if their skins of the chest were pried loose from the bone and the arms were shoved under that skin and resewn up. Their faces had no features, just a wide gaping mouth filled with several sharp sets of teeth. They silently flooded the street in, what could only be described as, the oddest interpretive dance ever.  
    "Shit," Daryl shouted knowing full well he didn't have enough ammo to take them. He bolted down an opposite alley, trying to stay ahead of the flock of armless toothy demons.  
    On the other side of the alley he stopped to catch his breath. It didn't sound as if he were being followed. The street sign declared that he was on Main Street. _If I follow this street, I should be able to get out of town.._ He took a step out into the fog and felt something slick beneath his shoe. Looking down, he noticed a pool of blood. Inside the red puddle was a hand, hacked off at the wrist with a handcuff sunk into the skin. The words "YOUR FAULT", in bigger, angrier letters were written next to it in blood.  
    "Oh fuck!" Daryl cringed. "That ain't my fault..."  
    "Daryl..." a voice whispered so low and breathy he was unable to discern if it was male or female, "this way."  
    "Yes, follow the creepy voice. Perfect." Daryl muttered before turning in the opposite direction of the voice. _Survival Instinct, goddamnit._  
    He ran no more than ten feet before he came a screeching halt, trying to regain his balance so he didn't go over the precipice. _Another collapsed street?!_ He sighed and turned around, knowing now he had no choice but to follow the voice.  
    After traveling a quarter mile through fog and partially collapsed streets, he came to a well lit church. Organ music filled the air accompanied by quiet sobbing and hushed voices, the sounds of a funeral.  
    Having no better alternative, he went in. Maybe they could give him directions and tips on how to avoid collapsed roads on his way out of town.  
    The atmosphere was depressing and foreboding. No one looked up when he entered. He saw men in black suits, their heads bowed into the darkness and women with black shawls, covering their faces.  
    Candles lined the plush red carpet which led down the room, between the pews, to an open casket. A candelabra stood aside it, casting an eerie glow.  
    Curiosity getting the better of him, Daryl slowly approached. _What kind of people still have actual funerals now-a-days?_ The last funeral he'd go to was his mother's and she didn't get anything nearly as fancy as the shiny, brown casket in front of him. All they could afford was a pine box.  
    A knot of dread filled his stomach as he approached.  
     **This is the comfiest bed I've had in years.** His own voice ran through his mind.  
    Approaching the coffin, he peered inside. A knot formed in his stomach, a culmination of fear and anger at what was inside. There he stood, peering into the casket, face to face with himself.  
    "NO!!" he screamed.  
    A hand clasped his shoulder. He spun around to meet the person, finding no one there. His eyes scanned over the people in the pews. They were standing now. The women removed their funeral shawls, their faces now clearly recognizable.  
    Lori looked at him, sadness painting her face, from center-row holding Shane's hand. T-Dawg stood with Sophia an Andre and Amy in the far right corner.  Hershel, Patricia and Beth stared at him from the back-center. Bob, Noah and Tyreese sat together. Merle's hateful glare was front and center.  
    A million voices rushed into his head at once.  
_You let me down, son, you couldn't even protect my daughter._  
_You ain't got what it takes, baby brother._  
_You failed the group._  
_Just make sure the safety's off._  
_You left me to die._  
_You left me to die._  
_You failed._  
_You failed._  
_Your fault._  
_YOUR fault._  
_YOUR FAULT._  
    "NO!!" he shouted, knocking over the candelabra next to him in his haste to escape.  
    The fire spread quickly, engulfing the casket with ease as Daryl sped out the door.  
    He ran for God knows how long. His feet ached, his lungs burned for oxygen. Finally, he collapsed on the ground, taking in big gulps of breath. His chest heaving, trying to get more air than his lungs could hold. "I'm going fucking crazy," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes.  
    He turned back to see the church going up in flames. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves.  
    "It's not your fault," Beth stopped next to him. "You have to know that by now." She continued on her way, into the giant hospital that stood before them.  
   _That wasn't there before._


End file.
